Sept 18, 2006


Looking at my finger

Nine months, 12 days, and one hour married
Content, and pleased
Yet purpose escapes my fingertips
Eager only to be eager for something else
Something good
Something I don't yet want or feel or know
Or need to know
And yet I need to know
These shoes are still not broken in
No matter how far I walk
Some days it's like they aren't even mine
Unusual blisters, these
Slow to mend
And so difficult to put my finger on
Though it fits so easily on my hand